Irish Taxi Forum
Public Area => Taxi Talk => Topic started by: taxi1990 on August 06, 2020, 01:39:17 pm
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Mine was a friday night, picked up 3 lads off the street, the trip was only a tiny distance so I got about 7 euro. I had said that my first customers would get a free fare but the lads were arseholes so I charged them full price. still it was great to get the first fare.
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it was back in 1997, should I remember?
Haven't a clue
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it was back in 1997, should I remember?
Haven't a clue
That's an age thing!!
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Thomas Street to Tallaght .Working down the docks had the taxi about a week was on my way home from work about 6oc in the morning .
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Thomas Street to Tallaght .Working down the docks had the taxi about a week was on my way home from work about 6oc in the morning .
Did ye get paid!! lol
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Oscar Taylor’s to priory hall, probably wasn’t a great omen.
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Thursday night.hallaween,as it happened.sutton to howth
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Ranelagh rank to Barrow St.She got out early after I went the wrong way into heavy traffic 3 times.
I nearly gave up there and then.
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I remember the first fare well, back in 1996 I became a cosy driver with a chap on the top of the NCR. He showed me how to use the meter and left me with the keys of the taxi, just as I started it up I got a knock on the window with two foreign tourists coming from the zoo, they asked could you take me to Iona Road? I said yeah not knowing where the feck it was, had to break out the paper map then went to reverse the car away from the tree it was pinned up against only to not be able to find reverse on a 93 opel vectra (you had to pull up the ring on the stick) They got a laugh when I told them it was my first fare and left with a tip. Good old days with work on the streets.
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I remember the first fare well, back in 1996 I became a cosy driver with a chap on the top of the NCR. He showed me how to use the meter and left me with the keys of the taxi, just as I started it up I got a knock on the window with two foreign tourists coming from the zoo, they asked could you take me to Iona Road? I said yeah not knowing where the feck it was, had to break out the paper map then went to reverse the car away from the tree it was pinned up against only to not be able to find reverse on a 93 opel vectra (you had to pull up the ring on the stick) They got a laugh when I told them it was my first fare and left with a tip. Good old days with work on the streets.
Great story. 8)
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Mine was a Thursday evening in May 2009, waited 3 hours on the 'Pebble beach' holding rank at the airport fer a 18 Euro job out the back road to Carrigaline, never ever been inside Pebble beach since !
The Boss showed me how to work the meter and warned me that the airport could be a long wait fer a short fare but as I was 10 minutes in the game and he was 20 years at it, I knew better.
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And ye still do Ken!! lol
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Mine was November 2010, I picked up a couple on Cork St and dropped them to George's St.
They told me on the way in that it was the opening night of their first restaurant venture. We had a good laugh when I told them it was my first night too and they were my very first customers.
And strangely enough, about 2 weeks before I started, I flagged down cab and I happened to be his first ever fare.
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do ye remember your first meltdown.
I threatened to kill a fella in clontarf one night.
remember it like yesterday.
a mouth with rotten breath he was.
the other goons were in the back and he deliberately propped himself in the front seat and launched operation annoy the cuntin jaysus out of the taxi driver.
kept elbowing me when he thought he said something funny.
kept telling him to stop politely.
I was like fuckin Bill Bixby.
dropped them at the gaff he wanted and I was elated I was free of the cunts.
then the cunt said this is'nt where i asked you to bring us and i fuckin snapped.
I ended up chasing your man down the road on foot.
don't know why cause I'd already been fuckin paid.
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My First Taxi Meltdown.
Excerpt from Taxi Diaries 2;
Trouble Again !
I got a base job one night to collect a fare from Ballinure in Mahon
at about 3.30am, I got directions on my phone from a drunk elderly
lady into her estate and she tells me, "Its not for me but for my son".
Eventually the son comes out, a dirty looking fella about my own
height and weight, but a few years younger than me.
In he sits and stares at me with two huge googly eyes, it looked like
a good mix of cannabis, pills & alcohol, "Douglas" he says. No problems,
I drive on, my customer slurs a few incoherent sentences,
I just 'Nod and Smile', he directs me into the Topaz in Douglas village,
he exits warning me 'Not to leave and I won't be in any bother'
he buys cigarettes with his Laser card but is refused cash back,
so I tell him; "We can put the card tru with the base or there is an ATM
around the corner".
He points at the corner and we drive over to the ATM, he gets out and
obviously can't work the machine due to his drunken/stoned condition.
I'm thinking 'Cut n Run' but its a base job and I flippin can't 'Cut n Run'.
He hails me out to help him, I go up to aid him but he refuses to tell
me his pin number, I leave him and sit back in the car and start it up,
he hails me back out a second time with the exact same result.
15 minutes later with him drunkenly pressing all the ATM buttons,
I'd had enough of him and started to drive off leaving him at the ATM,
but he followed straight away and sat back in the car. I told him that
we would put the card through with the base, he half-agreed, nodding
the 'Noddy-smile'. Then we started a 20 minute tour of Douglas, all over
Greenhill's, Rosebank, Front & back Douglas roads, all with me demanding
to get his address and him refusing to tell me, him getting more abusive
and aggressive and pointing where to be taken, eventually he slurred
"Douglas Baths", so I headed for the swimming pool, with absolutely no
intention of letting him near the swimming pool lane to do a Runner.
I got onto the main Douglas road and high-tailed it for town.
Langer Dan was now pulling at the base radio mic and I was trying to
drive and keep him away from it, when we got up to the crossroads by
Zicos pizza, I told him; "Tell me ur address now or its a Garda matter".
I knew this would blow his mind, but I was sick-shite of him, he immediately
became much more aggressive telling me to do an immediate 360 or he
was going to 'Whack me'. I said; "Fine, we head back to Douglas this way",
and I booted off for town, we got as far as Copley street and he leant
across me and dragged the keys out of the ignition, somehow I managed
to stop the car without crashing it, considering my power braking and power
steering were gone, as soon as I stopped I grabbed him by the arm,
because he was attempting to flee out of his door with the car keys.
I called into the base looking for emergency assistance, the base operator
called the Gardai for me immediately, but he still had my car keys.
I managed to talk him into giving me back the key's under the promise
that I would recontinue my tour of Douglas, he had bent the ignition key
pulling it out, but I managed to straighten it and get the car going again.
I drove straight across Angelsea street the wrong way and hailed a
passing squad car, parking headlong into Anglesea Street Garda station
and blocking a line of traffic, I gave the Gardai a brief description of what
had just happened and the Guard asked me to park the car up properly.
I sat back in to the cab and Langer Dan threw a sneaky 'Sucker' punch at
me, which caught me in the lower jaw, I jumped out of the car straight
away, but the Guards had parked away down near the crossroads and
they were both still in their squad car.
So whilst I'm stood outside my cab with no one at all coming to my aid,
I up with my cowboy boot and left yer-man have it, in tru the door twice,
one in the side and one in the chest, I pulled back for a third good kick
aiming the point of my boot at his ribs, but alas the heel of my boot caught
on the drivers seat and took away most of the brunt of the kick, maybe just
aswell because if I kicked him full bore with the toe of my boot it might well
have driven his Spleen out through his Nose !
(But he will still have some nice bruises to show the next morning).
When the guards came along, I was nursing my injured jaw, I told the guards,
he had hit me in the jaw with his fist and Langer Dan was trying to explain
that I had assaulted him, by showing the guards a black eye that was
obviously a week or more old, the gardai laughed that off, actually the guards
were very jovial over the whole thing, because yer man was just so stupid and
stoned outta his head, a guard searched his pockets and came up with 8Euro
which he gave to me, he took all our details and said to me that he would try
and get me the the other 25Euro for the fare during the week.
A Paddy wagon was called & Langer Dan was cuffed and taken away.
As my old Boss the 'Dark Lord' once said to me,
"Ken, take everything that's going Except a Dig !"
So I was only following Base orders !!
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So I was only following Base orders !!
That was great!!
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My First Taxi Meltdown.
Excerpt from Taxi Diaries 2;
Trouble Again !
I got a base job one night to collect a fare from Ballinure in Mahon
at about 3.30am, I got directions on my phone from a drunk elderly
lady into her estate and she tells me, "Its not for me but for my son".
Eventually the son comes out, a dirty looking fella about my own
height and weight, but a few years younger than me.
In he sits and stares at me with two huge googly eyes, it looked like
a good mix of cannabis, pills & alcohol, "Douglas" he says. No problems,
I drive on, my customer slurs a few incoherent sentences,
I just 'Nod and Smile', he directs me into the Topaz in Douglas village,
he exits warning me 'Not to leave and I won't be in any bother'
he buys cigarettes with his Laser card but is refused cash back,
so I tell him; "We can put the card tru with the base or there is an ATM
around the corner".
He points at the corner and we drive over to the ATM, he gets out and
obviously can't work the machine due to his drunken/stoned condition.
I'm thinking 'Cut n Run' but its a base job and I flippin can't 'Cut n Run'.
He hails me out to help him, I go up to aid him but he refuses to tell
me his pin number, I leave him and sit back in the car and start it up,
he hails me back out a second time with the exact same result.
15 minutes later with him drunkenly pressing all the ATM buttons,
I'd had enough of him and started to drive off leaving him at the ATM,
but he followed straight away and sat back in the car. I told him that
we would put the card through with the base, he half-agreed, nodding
the 'Noddy-smile'. Then we started a 20 minute tour of Douglas, all over
Greenhill's, Rosebank, Front & back Douglas roads, all with me demanding
to get his address and him refusing to tell me, him getting more abusive
and aggressive and pointing where to be taken, eventually he slurred
"Douglas Baths", so I headed for the swimming pool, with absolutely no
intention of letting him near the swimming pool lane to do a Runner.
I got onto the main Douglas road and high-tailed it for town.
Langer Dan was now pulling at the base radio mic and I was trying to
drive and keep him away from it, when we got up to the crossroads by
Zicos pizza, I told him; "Tell me ur address now or its a Garda matter".
I knew this would blow his mind, but I was sick-shite of him, he immediately
became much more aggressive telling me to do an immediate 360 or he
was going to 'Whack me'. I said; "Fine, we head back to Douglas this way",
and I booted off for town, we got as far as Copley street and he leant
across me and dragged the keys out of the ignition, somehow I managed
to stop the car without crashing it, considering my power braking and power
steering were gone, as soon as I stopped I grabbed him by the arm,
because he was attempting to flee out of his door with the car keys.
I called into the base looking for emergency assistance, the base operator
called the Gardai for me immediately, but he still had my car keys.
I managed to talk him into giving me back the key's under the promise
that I would recontinue my tour of Douglas, he had bent the ignition key
pulling it out, but I managed to straighten it and get the car going again.
I drove straight across Angelsea street the wrong way and hailed a
passing squad car, parking headlong into Anglesea Street Garda station
and blocking a line of traffic, I gave the Gardai a brief description of what
had just happened and the Guard asked me to park the car up properly.
I sat back in to the cab and Langer Dan threw a sneaky 'Sucker' punch at
me, which caught me in the lower jaw, I jumped out of the car straight
away, but the Guards had parked away down near the crossroads and
they were both still in their squad car.
So whilst I'm stood outside my cab with no one at all coming to my aid,
I up with my cowboy boot and left yer-man have it, in tru the door twice,
one in the side and one in the chest, I pulled back for a third good kick
aiming the point of my boot at his ribs, but alas the heel of my boot caught
on the drivers seat and took away most of the brunt of the kick, maybe just
aswell because if I kicked him full bore with the toe of my boot it might well
have driven his Spleen out through his Nose !
(But he will still have some nice bruises to show the next morning).
When the guards came along, I was nursing my injured jaw, I told the guards,
he had hit me in the jaw with his fist and Langer Dan was trying to explain
that I had assaulted him, by showing the guards a black eye that was
obviously a week or more old, the gardai laughed that off, actually the guards
were very jovial over the whole thing, because yer man was just so stupid and
stoned outta his head, a guard searched his pockets and came up with 8Euro
which he gave to me, he took all our details and said to me that he would try
and get me the the other 25Euro for the fare during the week.
A Paddy wagon was called & Langer Dan was cuffed and taken away.
As my old Boss the 'Dark Lord' once said to me,
"Ken, take everything that's going Except a Dig !"
So I was only following Base orders !!
Does your base really not allow you to reject jobs? That's mental. I reject for things like if I know the passenger and I know that they stink as a rule, or if a fella has annoyed me one time talking pure shite and I'm not in the mood for it. Never a problem. They'll always send some other poor driver that does not have the same knowledge [emoji23]
Sent from my FIG-LX1 using Tapatalk
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You should write a buke, Jonno.
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You should write a buke, Jonno.
Might do [emoji57]
Sent from my FIG-LX1 using Tapatalk
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Ah go on, we'll give you your own section for excerpts anall...
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Ah go on, we'll give you your own section for excerpts anall...
Calm down your ratship....we've suffered enough already with tales from a bootlegger!!
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Ah go on, we'll give you your own section for excerpts anall...
Calm down your ratship....we've suffered enough already with tales from a bootlegger!!
I'll throw a few anecdotes your way then. Wait till I finish this run
Sent from my FIG-LX1 using Tapatalk
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Look on the bright side, Hal... you don't have to click on every section...
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Look on the bright side, Hal... you don't have to click on every section...
...or any!!
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Indeed. I've only ever visited the hybrid and painting boards by accident.
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Wait till you're painting your future hybrid!!
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Indeed. Not a word of a lie, I spent much of today painting the walls behind the under counter kitchen cabinets.
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That would indicate that there's no under counter kitchen cabinets fitted.
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There is... I took them out to paint the walls behind them. Not sure what that indicates, it's gotta be some sort of mental illness... but, in my defence, bear with me, it's a long story...
A while back some bloke on a sparsely subscribed taxi forum posted something about needing a jig to fit a kitchen counter and it got me to thinking it's about time I replaced my own counter. Mrs. Catcher agreed and suggested maybe a Pole to fit it - bit of a tangent but when we moved in the counter was only on one wall with very little prep space and the shape of the kitchen kinda dictated that the counter should be on two walls so I set about finding out where I might get a length for the second wall and the then site foreman (a taxman himself... and a farmer, bloke couldn't get enough of work) said I ought to put the long length where the original length was and remove the long cupboard that was supposed to fit a fridge but didn't and I agreed. Anywaysanall, he organised the materials for a few beers and a place to hang out when he was dodging work and I was home doing fuck all so, getting back to the point I took the long length out the back with my circular saw, put the old counter on it and cut out the hob and sink with the help of my father in law (RIP) and from there it turned into something like a Laurel and Hardy sketch... we discovered iii was too long to get into the kitchen through the door so had to bring it in through the window and manipulate it into place. Just as it seemed to be sit almost perfectly I decided another tap seemed appropriate... that's when it cracked in two places, one in front of the hob cut out and the other on the diagonal behind it... so the father in law came up with a, frankly, ingenious solution and got to work with a tube of black sealant, a coping saw and a file.... a few hours later it was perfect, kinda, well good enough anyway. The next day, appropriately hung over the father in law was rearing to go with a new router I'd bought in Argos convinced he was going to scribe the second counter perfectly into the glued together first but I managed to convince him that a trip to the hardware store for some metal edging was a far less ambitious and perfectly workable solution given the previous day's farce. That takes us to Mrs. Catcher's next suggestion... a new fucking kitchen!
Hence I had a good look at what's there and, to be frank, it's in good shape. The doors and such like are far better quality than the kinda shite I'd buy in a popular Swedish flat pack superstore with very little damage or signs of wear, the cabinets are 3/4 inch covered chip and, to be fair, needed a couple of edging strips replaced but no more than that... so I tell her we'd only be replacing half decent stuff with shite so she decides we'll paint them instead because wood coloured is apparently out of fashion a tired looking... so, to date, I've taken the bottom of it apart and painted most of it... actually came up quite well but don't tell her that, I'm maintaining my stance that it didn't need doing... anywaysanall, in taking bits and pieces off and discovering hidden dust, dirt and cobwebs one thing led to another and my OCD found me painting walls that will never be seen, ever!... and I fitted skirting board and painted that too... I know it's crazy but I guess that's what lockdown does.
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There is... I took them out to paint the walls behind them. Not sure what that indicates, it's gotta be some sort of mental illness... but, in my defence, bear with me, it's a long story...
A while back some bloke on a sparsely subscribed taxi forum posted something about needing a jig to fit a kitchen counter and it got me to thinking it's about time I replaced my own counter. Mrs. Catcher agreed and suggested maybe a Pole to fit it - bit of a tangent but when we moved in the counter was only on one wall with very little prep space and the shape of the kitchen kinda dictated that the counter should be on two walls so I set about finding out where I might get a length for the second wall and the then site foreman (a taxman himself... and a farmer, bloke couldn't get enough of work) said I ought to put the long length where the original length was and remove the long cupboard that was supposed to fit a fridge but didn't and I agreed. Anywaysanall, he organised the materials for a few beers and a place to hang out when he was dodging work and I was home doing fuck all so, getting back to the point I took the long length out the back with my circular saw, put the old counter on it and cut out the hob and sink with the help of my father in law (RIP) and from there it turned into something like a Laurel and Hardy sketch... we discovered iii was too long to get into the kitchen through the door so had to bring it in through the window and manipulate it into place. Just as it seemed to be sit almost perfectly I decided another tap seemed appropriate... that's when it cracked in two places, one in front of the hob cut out and the other on the diagonal behind it... so the father in law came up with a, frankly, ingenious solution and got to work with a tube of black sealant, a coping saw and a file.... a few hours later it was perfect, kinda, well good enough anyway. The next day, appropriately hung over the father in law was rearing to go with a new router I'd bought in Argos convinced he was going to scribe the second counter perfectly into the glued together first but I managed to convince him that a trip to the hardware store for some metal edging was a far less ambitious and perfectly workable solution given the previous day's farce. That takes us to Mrs. Catcher's next suggestion... a new fucking kitchen!
Hence I had a good look at what's there and, to be frank, it's in good shape. The doors and such like are far better quality than the kinda shite I'd buy in a popular Swedish flat pack superstore with very little damage or signs of wear, the cabinets are 3/4 inch covered chip and, to be fair, needed a couple of edging strips replaced but no more than that... so I tell her we'd only be replacing half decent stuff with shite so she decides we'll paint them instead because wood coloured is apparently out of fashion a tired looking... so, to date, I've taken the bottom of it apart and painted most of it... actually came up quite well but don't tell her that, I'm maintaining my stance that it didn't need doing... anywaysanall, in taking bits and pieces off and discovering hidden dust, dirt and cobwebs one thing led to another and my OCD found me painting walls that will never be seen, ever!... and I fitted skirting board and painted that too... I know it's crazy but I guess that's what lockdown does.
Indeed, I ripped out a solid oak kitchen and replaced it with glossy coated chipboard
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We still have the original square panel solid oak(with patina) doors that i sourced 21yrs ago,i put the foot down and told the missus that there's no fukin way those doors are getting painted....and they won't.....ever,the sitting room is like a fukin ikea showroom with that scandi 70's look...or whatever....the kitchen countertop still hasn't been changed!!
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Ifn you're looking for one to practice on let me know!
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Cheers.....btw.... always cut sink/hob apertures in situe...ie...don't cut them and then have to push the worktop through fukin windas!!
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Yeah, I learnt that one a couple of decades back. That's what separates us from the immigrants, an ability to learn from our mistakes! I learnt another one today... wear gloves when you're adjusting the plastic legs under the cabinets!
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I wear gloves for a lot of tasks nowadays,they're my go to before i start flutin around,i'm restoring the table i made for my inter cert at the mo,it survived from 79 until now,my mortice and tenon joints were pretty good for a 15yr old buachaill...and my doweling was spot on....nearly!! lol
(https://i.postimg.cc/FYMpS2L2/20200626-110840.jpg) (https://postimg.cc/FYMpS2L2)
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Dya live on a hill?
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Dya live on a hill?
That's how all the cool kids take photos these days Bob.....get with the programme!!
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I wear gloves for a lot of tasks nowadays,they're my go to before i start flutin around,i'm restoring the table i made for my inter cert at the mo,it survived from 79 until now,my mortice and tenon joints were pretty good for a 15yr old buachaill...and my doweling was spot on....nearly!! lol
(https://i.postimg.cc/FYMpS2L2/20200626-110840.jpg) (https://postimg.cc/FYMpS2L2)
You showed promise then, it's a pity you didn't go to Anco and get qualified. You'd have the trade for life ?
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I have a trade Ken...when you were banged up abroad costing some state money i was on the tools...as ermy would say!!
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I have a trade Ken...when you were banged up abroad costing some state money i was on the tools...as ermy would say!!
Yeah pulling your tool. rofl
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I'd expect nothing less Lizzzy....so i'm not disappointed!! lol
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Finished putting the bottom of the kitchen back together... not a bad job but not perfect by any means. However, I says to Mrs. Catcher isn't that better than a new kitchen sorta tongue in cheek... in all seriousness she agrees and says it's a great job... didn't even have to resort to telling her how many trees she's saved anall #treeslivesmatter!
Only the top half and the counter to tackle after me little staycation.
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I get the feeling Mrs Catchers reply was more sarcasm.
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No, it wasn't... she's genuinely happy with it.
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if I had the room I've always wanted to build a full size snooker table.
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Take up darts.